


I Wonder, What Did They Do With The Bodies

by rxinventlove



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Punk, Angst, Drabble, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 13:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15730212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxinventlove/pseuds/rxinventlove
Summary: Hilde knows he’ll deny all of this once the sun sets; in the dim lights of the bars and in the pits of secret punk shows they have to be Loki and Brunnhilde, can’t really be like they are now, he won’t let them be like they are now.





	I Wonder, What Did They Do With The Bodies

Loki feels like writing her name in wet cement; burning to be remembered for anything other than her fuck-ups and Marlboro Reds. Hilde feels like it might be too cliche to say she wants him, but god does she ever. She wants his hands crawling down her ribs, back up her spine and down again, resting on the strip of skin above her boxers. She wonders why that feels so personal, callouses against the divot of her spine.

She hooks her pinkie with his, their own version of holding hands, cigarette hanging between her middle and ring finger on her other hand. The cherry flares red when she takes a drag, holding it all in until her throat starts to burn with more than just smoke. The quiet sound of ashing the cig in the ash tray is overshadowed by the soft sigh that comes out of Loki’s mouth, eyelashes resting on rosy cheeks, and looking distractingly pornographic when she exhales out into his face.

Her sheets are an off-white against the warmth of their skin, tangled in between them, low thread count smoothed out with use and time. Everything she owns has probably been through the wash one too many times, all her jeans have holes and all her pillow cases smell vaguely of cigarettes when they’re fresh out of the dryer, but it’s nothing unnatural for Hilde so she doesn’t bother replacing anything.

Her house smells like something out of a punk rock song, at least that’s what Loki tells her. Loki, with his hipster hair and eyeliner left over from Friday nights and underground shows. Loki, with his pickpocketing and constant caffeine high. She thinks he’s something out of a punk rock song, and she tells him so. Loki in her house, breath smelling like cheap vodka and coffee, smoking her cigs, singing in a choked off whisper while she sits at the window open wide. The radio is old and barely audible in the deafening silence, but she knows the words to this one off by heart.

Hilde wonders if this one strikes a cord, morbid curiosity and nostalgia like a broken record, wondering what they do with the bodies of old childhood memories.

If it were up to her she’d keep him here, tangled together forever, but she’s not the girl in a romance novel and she doesn’t think he’d take very well to knowing just how much she wants him. His hand is still resting just above the curve of her ass and it sends shivers down her spine, making her eyes heavy with something warm. Loki slides his fingers up her spine again, swirling gentle patterns on the way up and curving around each bump on the way back. He’s so focused on her that Hilde think he can see into her soul, like he can feel everything just from the soft skin of her lower back. He makes everything feel so intimate that her head spins with affection and something just a little bit darker.

She stands in the doorway of her bathroom and watches him brush his teeth as she finishes off her cigarette. The kiss he gives her after is minty and cold in the best way, flavours bright in her mouth. She eats old fashioned maraschino cherries out of the jar and laughs when he makes a face at her over his mug of coffee. The next kisses they share taste warm and welcoming, like caffeine and cherries. Loki’s hand is heavy against her neck, rough from years of playing bass, and he brushes it down her shoulder, brings it to rest solid against her hip. 

Hilde knows he’ll deny all of this once the sun sets; in the dim lights of the bars and in the pits of secret punk shows they have to be Loki and Brunnhilde, can’t really be like they are now, he won’t let them be like they are now. She hopes that one day he’d rather be with her, in the pit instead of up onstage, but she won’t push, won’t ever ask him for that.

Sometimes he gives her whiplash, when they walk into those basement shows and bars they both favour, he’ll pull his hand away from her so quick it burns, leaves her with no choice but to be chewed up and spit out by the crowd all alone. Sometimes she’s grateful for it, loves the push and pull of the pit all around her, nothing to grab onto in the mass of screaming people, so many people on all sides that she can’t focus on anything but the bass under her feet. Sometimes it’ll be his bass underneath her feet; Loki up onstage watching out for her from above, those are always the best nights, she craves those bruises and aches that come with a really good show. Other times it feels like she’s suffocating, like she’d give anything to feel him behind her, strong and unwavering even as elbows fly into their ribs and platform boots crush their toes.

Hilde knows that it’s too much to ask though, knows he needs to be on stage, that whatever he feels for her isn’t as good the high he gets from being up there, so she never tells him. She savours moments like these, standing in her kitchen alone, tasting of coffee and sweet syrup, and never tells him that sometimes she just needs him.

Not the untouchable boy with the bass guitar, but Loki.

Sometimes Hilde just wants him.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr babes!! [bruhhemianrhapsody](https://bruhhemianrhapsody.tumblr.com)
> 
> even though i’m pretty much completely out of the Scene™ by now, my heart still belongs to punk and i felt like it was wrong if i didn’t write at least one punk!au
> 
> comment n kudos if you’d like! xo
> 
> (p.s. the song they’re listening to and where the title for the fic comes from is oh, susquehanna by defiance, ohio. good song, even better band.)


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